


Pacific Daylight Time

by novakid



Series: Heart Swells [1]
Category: DCU, The Flash (Comics)
Genre: Countdown (2007), M/M, Romantic or platonic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:48:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26807629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/novakid/pseuds/novakid
Summary: the only song i'll ever need is the sound you make when you're asleep.
Relationships: James Jesse & Hartley Rathaway, James Jesse/Hartley Rathaway
Series: Heart Swells [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1955152
Comments: 5
Kudos: 15





	Pacific Daylight Time

it's about eleven at night and fourteen hours since their last rest when the pied piper and the trickster crash at a seedy motel in the middle of a seedy town. they caught wind of a train running parallel to the southern border. it'll be better, james says, when they don't have to rely on running on foot as they have for the past few months. before the train is set to leave in two days, james says it'd be smart to rest up in town. hartley insists that it's too dangerous to stay in one place for too long. that they should keep moving if they want to make sure they're not followed. 

"you're tired of running. so am i. please, pipes, we gotta sleep, don't we?"

so, that was the end of that debate.

exhaustion overtakes both of them when they close the door behind them. 

james nearly collapses on the bed, but not before hartley tugs gently on the cuffs linking them. "dude, come on. i'm so tired."

hartley shakes his head and thumbs the direction to the bathroom. "we literally haven't taken an actual shower with soap in weeks."

james can't argue with that. as much as he wants to pass out on the bed, he's all too aware of the B.O. that they're both suffocating in. the air in the motel room is thick and stale, and he bets it's because of them.

they kick off their shoes, cape, cloak, mask, and follow each other to the bathroom. the cold of the tiles bite at hartley's feet, but it's a good distraction while james is turning the water on. they've been running on foot for months, and have since gotten accustomed to sleeping, cleaning, and relieving themselves with each other's presence. hartley's not sure what he'd do if it were anyone other than james, though. even with the two of them being so close... it's hard to deal with james' remarks, which come off as callous when he's especially tired or frustrated. as if he's actually trying to hurt him. 

he _ isn't _ though. hartley knows this. because if he could guess one thing, it's that they wouldn't have lasted as long as they did if it weren't the two of  _ them _ together.

at least cleaning isn't as big of an ordeal as it was the first couple of weeks. they usually get it over as quickly as possible. pants and underwear go down easily, but taking off their shirts is a bit more difficult. after hours of debate in their fifth week, the two decided on taking their shirts off and letting them hang between them, dangling on the cuffs as they wash, letting them soak with them, then letting them dry overnight while they sleep shirtless. james was the one with most of the hangups with that idea but relented when he couldn't stand the smell of his own stink anymore.

now it's just routine.

james and hartley stand back to back, letting the hot water wash over them. it's nice. it  _ feels _ nice. nice enough that james almost wants to cry. when he feels a soft trembling from behind, he realizes that hartley is already crying. 

james lets him. he doesn't question, doesn't tease. he watches hartley out of the corner of his eye as he lets go and allows himself to cry like a lost child.

this makes james irrationally angry. at  _ everything _ . at the rogues, at flash, at deadshot, at himself. but not hartley. right now, he can't bring himself to be mad at hartley. there's a lot that he feels about hartley and everything else in this one moment, a lot of thoughts that are buzzing around his brain, but it's no good to simmer on them. after all, they're still in danger, and it'd be best to keep both of them from having a breakdown at the same time. 

_ 'come on, tricks,' _ he thinks, ' _ i know you can compartmentalize like a champ.' _

hartley tries not to be embarrassed of crying in front of james, who, thankfully, hasn't mentioned it at all. maybe he's just too tired to be embarrassed anyway, or that any embarrassment in front of his friend died the day james spent an hour on the toilet after a particularly ripe fast food dinner.

hartley laughs through his tears thinking about that memory. that's when james finally speaks up. "thought of a funny joke?"

"i wouldn't call it a joke." out of habit, hartley wipes his eyes even though they're both still under the shower's spray.

"what are you thinking about."

"the time your pants exploded at the gas station during the first few weeks."

"oh. of  _ course. _ " james tries to dramatize his response but is obviously too tired to do anything more than a sarcastic eye roll. it's a noble effort, more than hartley deserves.

when the shower turns cold, they climb out and dry themselves off. they wring out their wet clothes and throw on boxers before heading to bed. clothes are thrown over the headboard where they can air dry overnight without soaking the bed. they lay down, shoulder to shoulder with their linked arms besides their heads. james drifts off first like he always does on account of hartley's advanced hearing keeping him up, but eventually, the exhaustion catches up with him too. and they're both out cold.

when hartley wakes up, james is awake too. they're both on their side, facing each other.

"hi."

"hey."

they both smile at each other. hartley, because his mind is still sleep-riddled and he's feeling feather-light. james, because...

well. he's been trying not to open that can of worms. but the truth of the matter is that james has always had a soft spot for hartley. back before this all happened. before they had to run. before what now feels like the first dozen world crises. back when hartley was just piper and james was just trickster.

and seeing hartley break down in front of him from all the stress and sorrow and shit they've had to deal with snaps something inside of james like a rubber band.

james smiles at hartley now, just as he's waking up, because he's made a decision. 

_ i'm going to protect you if it's the last thing i do. _

it's a silent promise. one that he shows instead of says by reaching over and brushing a few strands of orange hair from hartley's forehead. 

"your hair is getting shaggy."

"yeah. it does that. are you okay?"

by now, the tips of james' fingers have let go of his hair and are now tracing hartley's jaw. it's an intimate gesture, one that hartley is not entirely sure how to interpret, but he lets him. there's obviously something on his mind, but james is clever and nearly unreadable when he wants to be. "i think i'm becoming delirious."

"i think so too."

"what's the first thing you wanna do when we get outta this mess?"

hartley purses his lips and closes his eyes, thinking. he's still groggy from just waking up and usually goes back to sleep when he can help it. "eat something delicious. shower for a whole day. sleep for another whole day. spend time alone, definitely."

"oh what, you wouldn't miss me?"

"absolutely not." they laugh at that. (to this day, hartley wishes he had told the truth.)

"name five people you'd love to pie in the face right now." hartley asks james now, idley counting the scars on james’ skin that are just barely visible in the morning light.

"mmm. you. obviously."

"obviously."

"len. cause i'm pissed at him."

"uh huh."

"wally. cause i'm pissed at him. but also, i want to see if he's fast enough to catch the pie in his mouth and eat it before it hits the rest of his face."

"uh... huh...?"

"deadshot's dumb corpse after we beat him to a bloody pulp."

"god, please."

"and... you a second time."

"hey!"

they laugh some more, this time as hartley tries to hit james with his pillow. james is still snickering as he catches the pillow and throws it on hartley before leaning over him with it. hartley is smiling up at james, content. it's been too long since either of them have felt at peace between all the running and hiding. 

_ i wish this moment could last forever. _

"hey, pipes?"

"yeah?"

"are...  _ you _ okay?" judging by the look on his face, james doesn't mean right at this moment. probably referring to last night’s sobfest. hartley lets his head roll to the side and looks out the window. judging from the sun's position in the sky, it looks like it's nearly noon. he wishes that enough time could've passed for james to have forgotten all about it.

"no."

"do you uh. wanna talk about it?"

"what's there to talk about?"

"point taken. but uh... i mean..." james is searching for a way to rephrase and possibly get more out of him. but hartley has nothing left to give.

his eyes start to sting, and he curses himself for it.

"hey, c'mon pipes. you look like a dumb little girl when you cry. i mean, everyone does. but you specifically!" james tries a smile but eventually lets it fall when hartley neither laughs nor berates him. 

he just cries again, looking nearly as broken as he did last night. nothing on his chapped lips other than a whispered apology. "it’s all just too much. i’m sorry."

_ i’m sorry _ , he says.

it's infuriating to think about the man who was once his passionate and fiery friend, so ready and willing to take on the world... reduced to a sobbing mess. and all james could ask was  _ why _ . why hartley? why him? the painful surgeries, the disapproving parents, the shitty boyfriends, the betrayals... and this? the world as they knew it beating down on him, again and again, crushing him like a soda can like he's some shitty highschooler's science fair project.

he feels it again; that pang in his heart, the snapping of rubber bands. james' arms wrap securely around hartley and he holds him tight. hartley, caught off guard by this sudden display of affection, stops crying out of pure shock.

"it's going to be okay."

what?

"it's going to be okay, even if i have to arm wrestle god or the devil to MAKE it okay!"

hartley looks up at james incredulously. well, that's that. if he wasn't so tired from crying he may have started laughing again. 

james seems to believe it. so there's no harm in agreeing, is there?

"i promise. it's going to be okay."

hartley closes his eyes and allows himself to rest in james' protective embrace.

tomorrow they will get on a train and continue their journey for survival. and it'll start looking up from there. whatever happens, they'll at least have each other. he's crying again, but this time with a smile on his lips. for the first time in weeks, hartley feels hopeful. "can we just lay in bed a bit longer before we find something to eat?"

"yeah. that's fine. how's one more hour sound?"

he can't believe how tired he still is. he nods. "that sounds good... yeah."

james smiles fondly and watches as hartley readjusts to go back to sleep. he doesn't let go, he doesn't think he can. he doesn't think he wants to. 

as hartley closes his eyes, james presses a chaste kiss on his forehead. 

tomorrow will be better. 

**Author's Note:**

> [heart swells / pacific daylight time by los campesinos](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AzD5OPg5ECI)  
> (lmk if there are any grammatical errors)


End file.
